


Crushed Beneath His Boots

by StartTheRiot



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Foot Fetish, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Rhys is a pervert, Why Did I Write This?, foot worship, jack is an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StartTheRiot/pseuds/StartTheRiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys strains to look up at the man pinning him to the floor, still shaking with laughter. This was a perfect angle of Jack: dominating, powerful, dangerous. And just knowing there was only a few centimeters of rubber, leather and fabric separating his face from the foot of his Idol made the younger man's heart race. He knew it was weird but Rhys definitely had a "thing" for feet, and god damn was this turning him on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crushed Beneath His Boots

**Author's Note:**

> My first (publicly shared) fanfic and of course I go for a super niche kink *eye roll* oh well, haters gonna hate  
> Kinda sorta AU, I guess pre-Tales but I don't really know, Jack's still in charge of Hyperion, Rhys is his assistant, cue the naked man feet already

Rhys couldn't tell if he was more embarrassed or excited. 

He was uncomfortably crouched, ass in the air as his face was sandwiched between the smooth, polished marble floor of the CEO office and Handsome Jack's low-heeled Pandoran Raider style boot. The hard rubber sole pressed roughly into his cheek and Rhys could feel the blush spreading across his face. Jack didn't notice as he was too busy cackling wildly, so thoroughly amused by his own "joke". (Handsome Jack brand humor always included unnecessary physical attacks or inappropriate sexuality. Today's assult was pretty mild: Jack snuck up behind his personal assistant, wiggled a booted foot around one of Rhys', and with a hard shove to the shoulders sent the tall man reeling. The boot to the face was the cherry on top of the abuse sundae.)

Rhys made no effort to push himself back up. He was almost as thrilled by this as Jack. Make no mistake, being humiliated like this was annoying, but then again... Rhys strains to look up at the man pinning him to the floor, still shaking with laughter. This was a perfect angle of Jack: dominating, powerful, dangerous. And just knowing there was only a few centimeters of rubber, leather and fabric separating his face from the foot of his Idol made the younger man's heart race. He knew it was weird but Rhys definitely had a "thing" for feet, and god damn was this turning him on.

"Oh Pumpkin, that was too good."

Jack snorts and mimes whiping a tear from his eye. For a brief moment he grinds his boot heel sharply against Rhys' jaw, then relents. Both feet now on the ground (Rhys pouted slightly- he hoped this torture would have lasted longer) Jack outstretches his hand. Rhys can tell from the look in those mismatched eyes that the gesture isn't sincere, but he still lifts his flesh hand, eager to give Jack what he wants. The moment right before their fingers would have touched Jack quickly yanks his hand away and instead brings it up to run his fingers through his hair, cocking his head dramatically. Posing like a damn supermodel on a photoshoot. 

He shoots a snobby look down at Rhys, whose pink face is still hugging marble, ass and arm comically reaching towards the heavens.

"You plan on staying on the floor all day?" 

The sneer twists into an evil grin as he watches the lanky man push up awkwardly onto all fours. Acting on a sudden impulse Jack kicks out and connects with Rhys' ribs, sending his assistant toppling again. A fresh round of laughter as Rhys curls into the fetal position, grabbing his aching side. 

He fucking hates Jack's happy moods. 

Just when he thinks today can't get any worse Jack brings his boot once again ontop Rhys, this time pressing into the probably sprained ribs. The pressure makes his eyes water. Rhys struggles to not allow Jack the satisfaction of even a single tear drop. 

Handsome Jack leans over, resting his forearms on his raised knee, simultaneously using his body weight to further press into the delicate thin body of his subordinate and using the intimidating angle to gloat.

"You are absolutely my favorite, little Rhysie."

A traitorous warmth awakens in Rhys' groin, brought on by the closest thing to a compliment Jack can give. Plus the large boot in his side, which houses probably the manliest appendage in the galaxy. What Rhys wouldn't give to have that bare flesh pressed against his own...

"Seriously, your pain-face is just the cuuutest," Jack mocks, grin widening into something quite wicked, "I've never seen a grown man blush so easily. It's like you're enjoying this or something... Hey, you're not, like, _actually_ getting off to this, are ya?" 

Blue and green eyes narrowing accusingly, Rhys tries to force innocence into his own mismatched eyes, ignoring the part of Jack digging into his body.

"N-No, sir." 

That didn't sound convincing even to his own ears.

Fortunately for Rhys that was all the proof Jack needed. Or maybe he was simply growing bored with this "joke". Either way Jack kicks Rhys over onto his back then stalks over to his desk.

"Good. Now get back to work, slacker."

********

The first time Rhys sees Jack's unsheathed feet it's almost too much for him.

The day starts off on edge; as soon as Handsome Jack walked into their shared office Rhys knew he was on the brink of one of his "temper tantrums." Instead of his classic smug grin Jack's wearing an unsettling blank expression. Rhys notices the clenched jaw, the fidgeting of Jack's left hand (his preferred strangling hand), and the uncharacteristic silence. It was the quiet that was the most worrisome. If there was one thing Jack loved it was himself, and he made sure everyone was reminded of it: the Handsome Jack Motivational Posters covering nearly every surface of the space station, the half-hourly Handsome Updates where Jack via the p.a. system reminded his employees why they should think him a god, even murder Jack turned into a chance to listen to himself lecturing. So a morning devoid of Jack's self-appraising rambling could only end in one way.

Without a word the older man leaves their office-

And returns over an hour later, whistling an upbeat tune, absolutely showered in blood.

Rhys bites down on his tongue, attempting to calm his stomach. After months of being Jack's assistant he's mentally adjusted to the now copious amounts of gore in his daily routine, but physically he's still struggling to control his reactions. Yes it's embarrassing to get so sick so often, but Rhys just tells himself it's a reminder that he's still human and hasn't yet been sucked into the cut-throat blood-orgy that is Hyperion.

Jack- already in a better mood- casually strolls over to the back wall of their office, which is really just a single large window overlooking space. He hums as he watches Elpis, old satellite debris glittering in a ring around the purple moon.

Rhys is slightly relieved Jack is more normal now but he can't handle the coppery smell filling their office. He gathers his courage and speaks.

"You r-r-really made a mess this time, sir." 

_Real brave,_ the young man internally mocks himself, _stuttering like an idiot._ Rhys sits a little taller in his chair, hoping he at least looks confident.

"Hmm?"

Jack turns towards the voice and blinks, as if coming out of a trance. When the words finally reach his brain he looks down at his clothes, and a soft, devious chuckle escapes his lips.

"Yeah, yeah I guess I did, huh? Wow, for a little guy the bastard sure had a lot of blood." 

Another amused chuckle as Jack makes his way to his desk, flopping down in his chair. He rummages through his drawers, muttering only half-hearted curses as he digs through his belongings. Jack soon finds his query and with a soft "A-ha!" pulls out a thin white rod with a bright blue handle, encased in a clear plastic pod. It takes Rhys a moment before he realizes what it is: a "Magic Maliwan Stain-Fighting Wand!" The only reason he recognized it at all was because the loathsome infomercial had been so cheesy and full of bad acting, and the jingle was so obnoxiously infectious. He couldn't believe anyone had actually bought that crap.

Handsome Jack pops open the packaging and clicks a button on the bottom of the wand, a soft hum now coming from the contraption. Jack raises the wand to his chest- right over a particularly wide splotch of red on his yellow sweater- and with a single pass the fabric underneath becomes clean and dry, not leaving any trace of body fluids behind. Rhys is actually impressed, and makes a mental note to pick one up himself. Jack must have seen the surprise on his assistant's face for he snorts and starts badly singing:

"~Use it on slag, on grass, on wine, on blood~"

Rhys frowns slightly. He knows the last word of that line is actually "mud" but he's not going to correct his boss.

Jack continues with his cleaning, taking several more minutes than was necessary since instead of working in a methodical pattern he randomly jumps from area to area. It seems the day can finally get on track now. At least until Jack tries to clean his boots.

He passes the wand over his right boot (the messiest of the two) and when he notices no change in the blood-content of his footwear a deep frown grows on his mask. Jack drags the mechanism over the stains four more times and still no change. In typical dramatic Handsome Jack fashion he sighs noisily and lets the wand fall from his hand and clatter to the ground. There's a deep, grinding buzz and then silence as the machine shuts off.

"214 fabrics and synthetics approved for use with this garbage but Rakk Hive skin is apparently beyond their technological scope." 

Jack sneers, anger creeping back into his eyes. Rhys isn't too upset, those boots were u-g-l-y and did nothing to showcase the treasures held within them. Maybe now Jack will wear his gorgeous burgundy suede wing-tip shoes instead.

"Remind me to send Maliwan a _strongly worded letter,_ if you catch my drift. Meaning, I'm going to meticulously detail how I will embowel each and every person that was involved with that failure, upload that to the ECHOnet, then for good measure forward it to their next of kin."

Jack grunts as he rips the boots off his feet, letting them fall haphazardly to the ground. He leans back in his chair, propping up and crossing his legs on the desk top, knocking papers to the floor. Arms raised, fingers interlaced behind his head, he glowers up at the ceiling, absorbed in deadly thoughts. His scowl only broken occasionally by malicious smiles. Jack flexes his feet with each new idea.

Rhys' desk isn't too far from Jack's own, arranged perpendicularly so only Jack's is facing front. Meaning Rhys' desk squarely faces his boss- whose socked feet are currently on perfect display. He can't help but stare, heart beating wildly each time Jack curls his toes. The socks are a no-nonsense grey cotton crew cut pair, slightly dirty on the bottoms, worn thin on the heels. Rhys' eyes hungrily follow the dips in the fabric hugging those toes, so long and slender- Rhys can tell even through the fabric. The heat is rising in his cheeks but he's powerless to stop it. He wonders if Jack has hairy knuckles, which he wouldn't even mind, really. Rhys feels his pants growing tighter in the crotch but still his mind races, overcome with sudden need. He wants to smell them...

Jack suddenly wiggles his toes wildly, almost like waving. Rhys snaps his gaze up to Jack's face and- blushing deeply- realizes he's been caught oogling his boss's feet. He knows his flushed face and rapid breathing must be giving him away but he still tries to cover up his perversion.

"You've, uh- got a hole! In your sock..."

Rhys points uselessly at Jack's left pinky, exposed and sticking through the fabric. Jack brushes a cursory glance over his tattered sock before returning his gaze to his assistant. Such piercing blue and green, Rhys is swimming in those eyes.

"You're fucking weird." Is all Jack retorts.

Rhys does his best to suppress his arousal and tries to avoid any more glances in his boss's direction. After a few minutes of pretending to read a marketing report his erection finally subsides. The day continues on, business as usual.

********

Rhys doesn't care if he's dying, it was worth it- finally touching Jack was worth it. He could die happy now at the hands of his hero.

That morning had been so calm. Rhys was the only one in the office, catching up on sorting reports for Jack. Mainly his job entailed sifting through the mountains of paperwork and determining which documents were actually worthy of the CEO's attention (other minor duties included foiling assassination attempts, assigning the replacements for Jack's messier "fired" employees, and coffee runs.) The quiet was a welcoming boost to his workflow and after a few hours he was completely finished. 

Rhys stands and stretches, happily giving his back some relief as he twists and pops his spine. He meanders over to the window, looking out into the beauty of eternal night. Funny how one can feel so blasé over something so spectacular like being only a windowpane removed from death-by-vacuum. He places his human hand upon the cold glass and a small shiver runs up his arm. Rhys just looks out into space, in awe of it's deadly closeness.

That's when the door unseals with a hiss and Handsome Jack thunders in. He stomps all the way across the marble tile, up the stairs, and with a huff throws himself into his huge chair, the momentum swivelling him around to face Rhys by the window. Based on his body language it's obvious something dramatic had just happened.

"Are you ok, sir?"

The glare that cuts into him makes Rhys wonder if he should have just stayed silent. Jack contorts his face into a sour frown, lips drawn back in disgust.

"No, I am not _ok,_ it should be fairly clear that I am far from _ok_ , though with a brain like yours I understand why you obviously can't fucking tell the difference between 'ok' and 'one god damned second away from putting a bullet in someone'."

Jack is struggling with the zipper on his boots, and that's when Rhys notices the problem: the knee-high faded leather boots Jack loves because they make him look like a desperado are nearly entirely caked in black mud, which caused Jack to leave a smeary trail of footprints tracked across their office. Jack also looks exhausted- his hair slumping out of its perfect coif, a sheen of perspiration glimmering on his temples, his clothes rumpled slightly. Rhys silently admits to himself how attractive Jack is in this flustered state.

"Not only did I spend all morning encouraging the grossly incompetent staff in charge of the eridium mines to _do their damn job right,_ but then the fast travel stations go offline- oh, remind me to **kill** everyone involved with that delay," Jack finally wrangles one of his boots off and it lands with a soft squish beside his chair. He begins to wrestle with his other boot. "So now my ass is walking to the closest extraction zone. And get this- you know where the _genius_ dig team decided to build a mine on a planet with thousands of square miles of desert? Huh? In a friggin' marsh. Good ol' can't-walk-for-shit-through-knee-deep-muddy marshland." 

Rhys doesn't interrupt to point out it wasn't the miners' idea to put an eridium deposit under all that mud, or that walking through desert would have probably been worse, he simply watches his boss now peeling the moist fabric of his socks from his body.

And now Rhys' worst nightmare is coming to life: Handsome Jack looking deliciously wrecked and bare-footed, laid out like a feast before him. Jack slumps deep into his seat, eyes screwed shut. With a soft groan he flexes his feet, letting them air out. Rhys' heart is thumping maddeningly, entranced by those long, beautiful appendages. They're pale- a nice contrast to the sun-kissed skin of Jack's arms, neck and face. Rhys _needs_ to touch them.

Without meaning to and before he could even stop, Rhys finds himself kneeling on the floor in front of Jack. This is another great angle of the Big Bad Boss; basically any view of Jack towering over you was flawless. Rhys felt like he was in a trance, helpless to fight against these urges. He collects his nerve while simultaneously trying to reign in his body's hunger and tenderly cups Jack's right foot in his hands.

Jack immediately flinches, not having noticed Rhys bent before him until now. His usual response to unprovoked human touch is "kill" but he was too startled to reach for his holster, so he instead tries to yank his foot back, but the strength of Rhys' artificial arm (god bless Hyperion tech) keeps him nice and snug up against his assistant's chest. Rhys squeezes lightly.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Rhys ignores his boss's indignation and starts rubbing in little circles, slowly massaging the overworked tendons. He's patient and methodical, working his hands deep yet gently into Jack's flesh, his whole being concentrating on the task. His face must be flushed- there's no way Rhys is this intimately close to reenacting his secret fantasy without giving away some clue about his excitement. He tries to calm his breathing and just quietly enjoy the feel of Jack on his fingertips, revel the sweet juxtaposition of texture: the soft thin skin of the top of the foot and the rough knot of the sole and heel. Rhys tries not to find the light little hairs doting those knuckles so cute but he loses that fight, and dips his head to place a faint kiss upon them.

"Seriously, what the fuck?!"

Two sets of mismatched eyes lock on to each other, blue and green knit together in confusion and growing annoyance, brown and blue overflowing with unashamed desire. Jack had actually started to relax and enjoy the massage, up until the kiss. He wasn't sure what his assistant was doing, it was all too suspicious and weird. Jack looks over the taller man below him- who looks way too comfortable kneeling, leaning back on his heels- and that's when Jack notices the huge tent forming in the kid's stupid half-pinstripe pants, and the pieces start falling together. 

His assistant was a fucking _perv._ Jack allows Rhys to continue, an amused smile delicately curling his mask. 

Rhys hungrily kisses the pale flesh, dragging his lips against the sharp edges of nonmanicured nails. He wants more, so much more. A soft, airy moan escapes his lips as he breathes in the intoxicating aroma of sweat and stink, the pungent smell tickling his nose. Rhys slowly traces his tongue along the length of a protruding vein, ending with a light bite against Jack's ankle. Unable to hold back any longer Rhys eagerly slips Jack's big toe into his mouth, sucking carefully, expertly rolling his tongue around the digit. He slowly moves down the row, taking each phalanx into his mouth, licking the valley between the toes, happily cleaning the compacted little rolls of dirt, sweat and lint from the CEO's feet.

Rhys chances a quick look up at Jack and is surprised to find the older man intently watching him, moved forward in his seat and leaning against the armrest. His chin is resting in his palm, a small bemused smile twisting his lips. Another soft moan from Rhys, this one slightly muffled by the toes in his mouth. He lowers his human hand to his crotch, hungrily rubbing his swollen genitals through his clothes. Jack quirks an eyebrow at the display and raises his free hand.

"Nuh-uhh- _uhh,_ " Jack tuts, wagging a finger disapprovingly at his subordinate.

Rhys ignores the warning, having come too far to stop now, and continues to rub himself, panting heavily. He laps sloppily against the ball of Jack's foot, too lost in pleasure to do an adequate job anymore. Jack just keeps smiling.

Rhys continues like that for an uncertain length of time, his moaning becoming more lewd, edging him closer to climax. He looks up at Jack, hoping to finish while staring into those gorgeous blue and green eyes. The older man simply curls his forefinger in a sexy beckon, demanding Rhys come closer. All too eager Rhys pops off Jack's toes and leans forward, back arched with lust as he stretches on all fours, his face painted pink. He cranes his neck upwards, lips trembling slightly as they pucker, desperate for a kiss.

And instead Handsome Jack closes his hand around his assistant's slender neck, a sinister grin on his face. Rhys sputters for air, a wild panic erupting in his chest.

"Now pumpkin, I don't recall ever giving you my consent for this twisted shit you're into. That's workplace harassment, y'know. "

His grip tightens as he brings his other hand to play, not wanting to show favoritism between his babies. Rhys scrambles and tries to pull himself free, the fear making him useless. Jack stands, pulling Rhys up as well and drags the poor kid across their office, Rhys stumbling on his own feet until he's shoved against the window. Under any other circumstance Rhys would have been impressed at the display of strength, but being on the business end of Jack's signature employee termination procedure left him a bit preoccupied. His diaphragm spasms hopelessly, his lungs on fire, brain screaming. And worst of all, his erection was still roaring.

His vision started growing dark, thought became impossible. All Rhys knew was Jack's suffocating touch, the throbbing in his neck and his pants, the cold against his back. He dazedly watches his confused reflection, bouncing off the polished claps of Jack's mask. He hears someone laughing.

"I'm not done with you yet, little Rhysie," a voice softly whispers as the world crumbles into velvet black nothingness.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to let me know what you think, and don't be gentle ;)  
> Still trying out the site so if I got a tag or warning wrong, or if you think I should add or modify labels and whatnot, sorry in advance but leave a comment and I'll fix it.  
> Next chapter may or may not get super sexy, depending on how much I wanna make Rhys suffer, heh >:3  
> Lastly, thanks so much for reading :) even if you didn't fully enjoy it it's still pretty awesome you took the time for my stupid, gay story <3


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